


auditions are best done on your knees

by orphan_account



Series: frankcest oneshots [2]
Category: Frank Iero and the Future Violents (Band), Frank Iero and the Patience, My Chemical Romance, frnkiero andthe cellabration
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Asshole Frank Iero, Blow Jobs, Bottom Frank Iero, Innocent Frank Iero, M/M, Smut, Top Frank Iero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:09:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23172958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: frankie desperately wants to join the band but to do so he had to make a promise or two to the lead singer frank, and that day frankie surely lost all that was left of his innocence..- via @EBOYFRANK on Twitter ----> https://twitter.com/EBOYFRANK/status/1238500585705476096
Relationships: Frank Iero/Frank Iero
Series: frankcest oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665769
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	auditions are best done on your knees

Everyone has passions, from jobs to lovers. Frankie was no exception.

From his early childhood years, he'd surrounded himself with bitter melodies and screaming guitars. Being a part of a band quickly became his dream, the idea of it keeping him awake until the early hours of the morning. The problem was that the world had decided against his dream. He had no money for a better guitar, only a shitty no-name one with shredded strings, and no friends in the music scene. 

Frankie had begged every band within ten miles to take him and was turned away with a sneer every time. No one wanted to take a scruffy eighteen-year-old with a beat-up guitar for the rhythm guitar place. 

"Come on, Marty!" He scrambled to make the buff dude stay and listen. "You've heard me play, I just want to have a shot!" Marty scoffed, slapping Frankie's grasping hands away. The bar was loud and raucous with drunk couples attempting to mosh to some shitty hair-metal band that Frankie couldn't stand the sound of, the singer thrashing on the ground. 

"No fucking chance kid," He snapped, finally turning to look Frankie dead in the eyes. "You're like four feet tall and look like a middle schooler. Not to mention your gay ass whining all the time. Stay in your place, fag." Frankie visibly winced, knowing the state of the scene wasn't the most accommodating to the LGBTQ community so he wasn't particularly surprised that Marty was a homophobic bitch. 

"Fuck you then," He muttered, walking towards the bar. 

"If you're so desperate to join a band, why don't you join a Kidz Bop troupe?" Marty called scornfully, earning a laugh from the rest of his guys. Frankie ignored him and waved at the bartender. 

"Just anything, please," He sighed. Ray nodded, sparing a sad smile for the underaged mopey mess at his bar.

"It'll come around eventually, Frankie," Ray sighed, setting down a shot for him. Frankie just shook his head and picked up the glass. He stopped with the cup at his lips, hearing a new voice on stage. 

Whipping his head around, Frankie zeroed his gaze on the foreign singer on stage, catching his eye. The singer smiled and began his set. 

Sweeping his eyes over the band, Frankie noticed a lack of another guitar and smiled back. 

Maybe he had another shot.

~

"I'm Frank Iero and these are my friends the Future Violents, and don't you fucking forget it!" The singer shouted, enticing a welcoming yell from the crowd. He threw the mic across the stage and turned on his heel, ignoring the ear-splitting cheers. Frankie excitedly hopped off his stool and snuck backstage, searching for Frank. 

He caught sight of him soon, shrouded in a cloud of cigarette smoke by the spare amps. 

"Hey!" Frankie greeted, far too enthusiastically. The singer looked up from his phone and smiled, pocketing the device.

"Looking for a smoke?" He asked, voice rough and gravelly. 

"Nah I'm good," Frankie declined politely, unconsciously copying the laid-back Jersey accent that Frank exuded. The singer noticed and smirked. 

"Then why are you back here, you the cleaner?" He joked, letting the cig drop to the ground, crushing it below his shoe. Frankie's face dropped a little and he gripped his fingers a little harder.

"No..." He said quietly, scuffing his Vans on the rough cement floor. The backstage area was dingy and dirty, just his kind of environment. "I was wondering if you needed a rhythm guitarist, your sound was a little flat." Frankie regretted that comment as soon as it slipped past his lips, waiting with bated breath for the insults to pour his way. Thankfully, Frank just let out a loud laugh, eyes crinkling at the sides charmingly. 

"What a way to ask for an audition, oh lord," He chuckled, shaking his head. He looked the younger boy up and down slowly, thinking it over in his head. It was more than a little fucked that they looked so similar, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Meanwhile, Frankie was still speaking, trying every tactic to get even a consideration. After months of being pushed aside, he was desperate.

"Look, I'll do anything, just give me a chance!" He finished in a rush. Frank's eyes snapped up to Frankie's at those words. God, the idea that had entered his mind was more than a little blackmail but it was tempting nonetheless. Entertaining the idea of this man on his knees...

"Anything, huh?" Frank decided to say, wondering if the boy would catch on to what he'd admitted to. Frankie nodded excitedly, unaware of the connotations. Frank laughed again. "What's your name?" 

"I'm Frankie," He answered. Frank sighed, even their names were almost identical? Really? 

"How about this-," He started, but Frankie cut him off.

"Thank you oh my god!" He replied, just stopping himself from hugging the man. Frank held up a hand, halting Frankie's speech before it could begin, glaring a little.

"I never said I'd let you in, don't get ahead of yourself," He snapped. Frankie visibly backed away, trying not to piss off the guy he was trying to get in a band with. 

"Sorry," 

"Anyways," Frank said, running a hand through his hair. "If I let you in, hypothetically," He let the statement float in the air before continuing to speak. "Then you'd have to make a promise or two for me, sounds good?"

"What sort of promise?" Frankie pressed, still blissfully unaware. Frank bit his lip before answering, unsure of whether to be blunt about his intentions or let the man figure it out while on his knees.

"You'd have to... audition... let's put it that way," Frank hedged, smirking a little. Frankie swallowed heavily, the low tone Frank as using making his body warm up in the cool backstage area.

"Okay..." Frankie said slowly, hands sweating as they clutched each other behind his back. "Do I have to like, breathe fire or swallow swords or something?" 

"God, you're making this so difficult," Frank groaned, stepping closer. "You blow me right here and I'll let you in the band, got it?" Frankie's jaw dropped comically and missed a breath, choking. 

"I-," He fumbled to speak, staring at the singer in front of him, taking in his folded arms and raised eyebrows, tattoos decorating the skin of his forearms. It didn't take a genius to know that Frank was attractive. With his post-show tousled hair and a cuffed brown button-up shirt, he exuded confidence and attraction. And the offer of joining his first band? How could he pass it up?

"Use your words," Frank mocked, watching Frankie's eyes flick over his body and avoid his own gaze. 

"You'll let me join if I suck your dick, right?" He asked timidly, scratching the back of his head. 

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Frank challenged, his foot tapping unconsciously. 

"If I get to join, then sure," Frankie shrugged, hiding his nerves as well as possible. In all honesty, he'd never done anything close to this. He was always the innocent one, the one that no one talked to about sex or anything like that. Hell, he'd never even watched porn. What teenager never watched porn?

"Then on your knees," Frank ordered, after a few silent seconds, tired of the wait. The backstage area had a door that was locked at the moment, as Frankie had locked it in a feeble attempt to make sure Frank couldn't leave too quickly. Obviously this worked out to Frank's advantage. 

Frankie nodded, wincing after letting his knees give out and hit the ground roughly. Frank smiled encouragingly, seeing past Frankie's attempt to seem tough. He used a finger to tilt the younger man's chin up, connecting their eyes.

"Are you sure about this?" He asked seriously, making sure to keep their eyes locked. "I'm not letting you do this if you aren't entirely sure." Frankie paused for a moment before nodding.

"Yeah, I'm sure," He confirmed, letting his hands rest on his knees, wiping away the nervous sweat. Frank tipped Frankie's head up just a little more as he withdrew his finger slowly, searching the wide hazel eyes for any hesitation. They were clear and more innocent than Frank had expected, as though Frankie wasn't on his knees, about to take a dick down his throat. 

In fact, he looked as though he was looking up at the sky, like a curious puppy. The sentiment made Frank groan, clenching his fist to keep from grabbing the man's hair and pulling him close. It was honestly sick. But in some fucked up way, that made it all the more appealing. 

Reaching down and sliding down his zipper was slightly difficult with his hands shaking, but he managed. He'd never expected Frankie to accept the offer and was having a little trouble processing it. Frankie huffed impatiently and shot his hands up to flick open the button on Frank's jeans, tugging on his waistband. 

Out of pure habit, Frank slapped the younger's hands away and gave him a dark stare. 

"Hands behind your back," He ordered, his own nerves making him harsher than he probably should have been. Frankie obeyed quickly, clasping his fingers together and muttering an apology. "If you want to stop, pull your arms forwards and hit my shins twice, got it?" He wanted to make sure he didn't hurt the man, just in case. Luckily, Frankie nodded. 

Frank slid his jeans down, biting back a groan from the fabric brushing against his skin. Frankie looked between the floor and Frank's clothed dick, letting out a breathy 'hah'. Thinking about it and actually sucking a dick were very two different things, and he was realizing this now. 

"You can back out at any time," Frank reminded him, thumb hooked on the waistband of his boxers. Frankie shook his head again determinedly. He couldn't pass up this chance, both of them.

"I'm good, just... nervous I guess," He muttered, taking a deep breath.

"You'll be fine," Frank reassured him again, letting his hand run through Frankie's dark hair. Startled by the sudden contact, Frankie jerked forwards, cheek brushing against the sensitive clothed erection in front of him. Frank let out a low moan, gritting his teeth. 

"Sorry!" Frankie apologized quickly, drawing back as much as Frank's clenched hand would let him, the strands of his hair trapped in the tattooed hand tightly. 

Frank chuckled, using his free hand to finally tug down his boxers. Frankie held back another sharp inhale, wondering how in the hell he was going to take that entire dick down his throat. Frank's dick really wasn't that large, but Frank was an innocent virgin so he didn't know that.

"Come on, I don't have all night," Frank said sharply, tugging on Frankie's hair to get his attention. Frankie whined in the back of his throat, eyes widening slightly. The singer smirked. "Aw, seems I've found a kink," He teased. Frankie scowled and in revenge, he leaned forward and took Frank into his mouth in one swift motion. Frank cut off his chuckle with a moan, his free hand flat against the wall. Frankie misjudged how far he took it and choked, the head hitting the back of his throat. 

"Fucking hell," Frank hissed, pulling Frankie's head back. "If we had more time I'd make you pay for that." Frankie moaned quietly, this entire ordeal turning him on almost painfully. Frankie ducked his head down again against his better judgement, going on his basic common sense of how to give someone head, which was severely lacking. Frank was enjoying it obviously, so he was doing something right.

Frankie pulled back, encouraged by the slack hand in his hair and moved his tongue around the head, digging it into the slit briefly. Frank exhaled a growl and flicked his hips forwards. Frankie managed to relax his throat and let his jaw fall slack, letting Frank do what he pleased. 

"Fucking perfect," Frank groaned, holding Frank's head still as he fucked his mouth a bit harder than he'd intended, but reassured by the moans vibrating from the younger man's mouth. Despite the order to keep his hands behind his back, Frankie reached a hand around to dig the heel of his hand on to his own dick, whining at the much-needed contact. 

"Gonna, fuck!" Frank cried out, coming down Frankie's throat suddenly. He coughed, managing to swallow most of the bitter liquid. Frank rode out his high for a moment before pushing Frankie's head back and off. He didn't notice that the other man was rutting up into his hand until he'd pulled up his jeans and zipped them up, smirking at Frankie's movements.

"I didn't say you could do that, did I?" Frank said, unsure of how Frankie would react. The man in question whined and withdrew the hand, looking up at Frank. 

"Could you...?" He trailed off, gesturing at his neglected dick. 

"I'm letting you into my band and now you want me to jerk you off?" Frank chuckled, watching Frankie's face fall. Of course, he was going to help the man out, he just enjoyed toying with him.

"Please?" Frankie pleaded, desperate for some sort of touch.

"Up," Frank said sharply. Frankie scrambled to his feet, tripping a little. He had his hands behind his back again and was looking at his shoes. Frank flipped them around and pushed the younger against the wall, pulling him into a bruising kiss and slipping a hand into Frankie's pants without hesitation. 

Frankie moaned into Frank's mouth eagerly, trying to reciprocate as best as he could, his legs weak. 

"Did really well, puppy," Frank said lowly as he pulled back, the pet name slipping from his lips accidentally. Surprisingly, Frankie whined and pulled him back into the kiss, moving his mouth even more enthusiastically. Frank worked his hand faster, eager to get Frankie off.

The younger man was a trembling mess against the backstage wall, rutting his hips to get any friction he could from Frank's calloused fingers.

"F-Fuck, gonna come," Frankie said breathlessly, his head tipped back with his hair sticking to his face in a messy nest. Frank used his free hand to yank Frankie's hair hard and flicked his wrist one last time, the younger coming over his hand with a half-sob. Working him through his orgasm, Frank smiled, pressing another kiss to the sweating man's cheek. Withdrawing his hand, Frank stepped back and handed Frankie a tissue, who looked fucked out as hell. 

The previously pure looking man was now wrecked, his lips red and swollen from kissing, his cheeks bright pink and his hair sexed-up. His knees were also red, the ripped jeans doing nothing to protect his knees from bruising. Frankie wiped his face while Frank cleaned his hand off with another tissue, reaching for the sanitizer.

"I'm in the band?" Frankie broke the silence, unable to stand it. Frank nodded, laughing.

"Yeah, I was gonna let you join anyway, I saw you play for Marty earlier," Frank admitted, smiling. Frankie laughed as well, grinning back.

"Thank you," He said seriously, tossing the tissue in the waste paper basket. "For... all of it."

"My pleasure, literally," Frank giggled. Frankie rolled his eyes and kissed the singer again.

"This is happening again, right?"

"Oh hell yeah."


End file.
